


By day give thanks, by night beware

by VileVenom



Series: Left of Center [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Allusions to Child Abuse, Carlos is eight years old, Eldritch Abomination Cecil, Gen, It's not really slash, but it's really not, more like pre-slash, so that'd be weird
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-26
Updated: 2013-08-26
Packaged: 2017-12-24 17:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/942451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VileVenom/pseuds/VileVenom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos is only eight years old, but he already knows the only real monster in the house is probably snoring in front of the television. Even if glowing purple eyes and a toothy grin are telling him differently.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By day give thanks, by night beware

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Cecil finding Carlos when he's still young, and sort of...drawing him to Night Vale.  
> Plus! Eldritch Abomination Cecil is one of my favorites.
> 
> Title stolen from Suzanne Vega's song 'Night Vision'

Carlos cringed as he heard another glass shatter down the hallway from his bedroom, shortly followed by the sound of his parents shouting. Quickly, he closed the books he’d been using to finish his homework (so his father had one less thing to yell at him about), before scrambling to put them neatly away and crawling underneath his bed. It was one of the few places his father couldn’t reach him, since his bed was pushed up into the corner of his room, and if he curled up just so in the farthest corner, his father’s arm couldn’t quite reach him enough to drag him out. He held his breath when he heard stomping coming down the hall, unaware he even had tears running quietly down his cheeks until they dripped down onto his hands.

He stayed curled beneath his bed for long hours, unaware he had even fallen asleep there until he was awoken by a quiet shuffling noise. He sniffed back the mucus that had built up in his sinuses from his earlier crying, wiping at his eyes as he slowly wormed his way to the edge of his bed, peering out silently at whoever was moving about his room.

"Oh," a smooth voice hummed from the dark of Carlos’ bedroom, before a pair of purple eyes blinked into existence before the boy. Carlos immediately squirmed back under his bed, very near tears once more as he squeezed his eyes shut, quietly going over in his head how monsters in the dark weren’t real. He was eight years old, and he knew by now that the only monster in the house was probably snoring in front of the television.

"Oh, no no, sorry," the voice quietly cooed, following Carlos under the bed. The boy slowly squinted his eyes open, finding the bright purple eyes had followed him beneath the bed. Carlos pressed himself further back against the walls when the eyes were joined by a sharp toothed grin.

The grin quickly faded away, the glowing purple eyes dimming a little at Carlos’ obvious fear. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” the voice whispered soothingly, “I was just exploring, and your room is very interesting. I hadn’t even realized you were in here.”

"What are you?" is all Carlos could think to whisper into the dark, still far too afraid of the floating purple eyes to venture moving away from the wall.

"I’m…Uh, well," the voice murmured uncertainly, eyes casting about for a moment, before focusing once more on Carlos, "I’m Cecil."

"That doesn’t tell me what you are, just who," Carlos huffed in a moment of childish indignantly.

"It’s hard to explain," the voice-Cecil- whined, "All I can really say is that I’m not from around here."

Carlos snorted loudly, before slapping a hand over his mouth, his gaze shifting towards his bedroom door, slowly letting out his breath once no sounds came from the hallway.

"I would think the glowing eyes, entire mouth of canines, and wandering in random people’s houses in the dark would be dead give-aways to the fact that you’re not around here," Carlos murmured, Cecil’s lack of apparent malevolence giving him a bit of courage.

"True," Cecil hummed, eyes retreating back into Carlos’ bedroom, the boy following slowly after them.

"So…why are you really poking around my room?" Carlos whispered once he was fully out from beneath his bed, brushing a few clinging dust bunnies from his shirt.

"I could smell fear," Cecil said offhandedly, flicking through one of Carlos’ text books, "And it made me curious."

Carlos shifted uneasily at the admission from Cecil, sinking down on the edge of his bed. He watched Cecil’s glowing eyes flit over the words in his text, a third glowing eye opening and closing once more so quickly, Carlos thought he may have imagined it. “Are you going to eat me or something, then?” Carlos asked, sounding rather resigned about the idea.

Cecil’s eyes almost immediately turned away from the books on the desk to peer at Carlos, his pupils blown as they widened. “What? No, of course not,” Cecil snorted, moving across the room, a shift in the edge of the bed letting Carlos know that Cecil was sitting next to him. “Human flesh tastes weird, and it’s super fatty, what with how much junk you all eat these days,” he prattled on, rolling his eyes as he spoke, “No. You just gave off such a strong scent, and this whole house has a terrible aura about it, I couldn’t help but be attracted.”

"Yeah. That would probably be because of my dad," Carlos muttered, looking back towards his door again, before turning to face where he assumed Cecil was once more. He found that, even with the light of the stars coming in through his window, aside from Cecil’s eyes and teeth (when he smiled), the area Cecil should have been occupying was oddly lacking in light or form. "He…he gets mad. A lot."

"Awww," Cecil cooed, just as something cool and smooth traced lightly over the dried tear tracks running down Carlos’ cheeks. "Does he hurt you?"

"Only if he can catch me," Carlos hummed with a tiny hint of pride.

Those bright canines grinned widely at Carlos once more, Cecil’s eyes flashing brightly. “Good boy,” he praised, the cool smooth thing that had traced over Carlos’ cheek wrapping around his torso, like a very odd one-armed hug. “What’s you’re name?”

"Uh, Carlos," Carlos offered, causing Cecil to grin even wider, if possible.

"You gave me your real name," Cecil purred, an odd sounding laugh following.

"Well…yes? Isn’t your real name Cecil?"Carlos asked in confusion.

"Of course not!" Cecil laughed, "There’s far too much power in a real name. Giving that to just anyone could mean the end of your freedom."

Carlos swallowed thickly, looking away from the void of light where Cecil was sat and out towards the rest of his room, dread suddenly welling up in his gut. “Does that mean the end of my freedom?”

Cecil snorted, the cool, smooth thing that was wrapped around Carlos’ waist moving to pat his head, before disappearing again. “No! It just means that your fate can ultimately be in my hands, should I so choose! And I think I do,” Cecil hummed, rising from the edge of the bed next to Carlos. “You are my perfect little human, Carlos,” his voice filtered around the room, filling it up, and making Carlos’ head swim a little, “Which means no harm will befall you, as long as I exist.”

"But, my dad-" Carlos began, only to be cut off by Cecil’s grinning eyes and teeth appearing mere inches from his face.

"Your father will have to deal with me, should even a single perfect hair on your little head is harmed," Cecil hissed, before adopting a friendlier tone, "And I’ll know." With that, Carlos felt a faint pressure on his arm, followed quickly by the scorching heat of flame centered on his upper arm. He yelped, covering his mouth with his free hand, just as a dull, cooling sensation ran over his arm where it felt as though he’d been burned.

"Sorry," Cecil murmured, his grinning mouth vanishing as Carlos felt an oddly cold pair of lips press against his forehead briefly. "Marking humans is never fun. But, this way, I can always find you. And, should you choose when you’re old enough, perhaps it will let you find me. But, only if you’re very lucky."

Carlos slowly let his hand drop from his mouth as Cecil moved away from him, his opposite arm feeling oddly weightless for the moment. “That’s it?” Carlos asked, feeling something like this whole meeting the thing that goes bump in the night was, all in all, a little lacking. Even if he had, technically, just found himself in the possession of said thing.

"Mhmm, that’s it," Cecil grinned once more, before the shadowy area he occupied suddenly disappeared, and Carlos was left wondering if the meeting had even happened at all.

Three weeks later his father was killed in a car accident, coincidentally shortly after Carlos was taken to the hospital for a broken arm.


End file.
